


gravity

by whereshiphappens (xiiis16)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Smut, but it's otherwise compliant with season 1 up to the dialogue, i have no idea how to tag this can you notice?, jealousy and irrational feelings of the sorts, what else...., with the exception of a few details and the last scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiiis16/pseuds/whereshiphappens
Summary: Jace’s hands fall to his lap, his eyes don’t leave Alec’s face and all the nonsensical noise of confusion in his head stops. It’s like realising an unnoticed paper cut – the sting seems to only be truly felt when youseethe cut. He breathes out. In the back of his brain there's a sudden realisation that he doesn't allow himself to fully face. But deep down, he also feels like he always knew. About Alec's feelings.(For him.)





	gravity

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea when i started writing this anymore. i know it was around the time season 1 ended but... well, point is, i've been casually writing it for the longest time and i finished the other night.  
> so i guess i'm posting.  
> idk. the world needs more jalec fic, that's all i have to say in my defense. 
> 
> i do hope you enjoy. ♥

* * *

 

 

If there was a way feelings could open your skin, cut their way from your chest and bleed onto the floor, his heart would be dry. If there was a way for him to shove a knife into his chest and have it all pour out of himself, cleansing his heart from it like the disease it is, he’d have his two hands soaked in his own blood, wielding that knife like his life depended on it.

Cause right now it feels like it does. Right now it feels like he’s going to burst with it and as he sits by the edge of his bed, head down facing the palm of his hands like they hold the answer to it all, he feels his fingers shake and curl into a half fist, ready to carve that horrible disease right out of his chest with his own nails.

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow down no matter how hard he tries, and his lungs _burn_ with every shallow breath he takes and he keeps closing his eyes and seeing it _all over again_ , burned in his eyelids - his hands and her fiery hair, her tiny form against him and the absolute zero hesitation in his movements to kiss her back.

He wants to look down on himself, wants to open his shirt and make sure his skin is in fact intact, because it doesn’t feel like it; it feels… like internal bleeding. It feels like his heart was pierced by the crushing weight that set over his ribcage and all of it, all of these feelings were spreading across his chest, black and thick and bitter, closing his airways, infecting his lungs making it impossible to breathe no matter how hard he’s trying and Alec can’t find a way to make it stop, make it go away.

There’s a knock on the door, his hands curl around the bed sheets this time, his shoulders tense. He can’t deal with this right now.

“Alec,” it’s Izzy, of course, with her cautious knowing voice speaking to him like she thinks (knows) he’s going to break. And he just can’t. Not even Isabelle. Not right now.

“Izzy, please don’t.” He finds his voice somewhere in the middle of his crushed ribcage but doesn’t trust himself to turn around and face his sister, even though he hears her tentative step into his room.

“Alec, c’mon…” she tries again, whispering this time and there’s something in the tone of her voice that gets to him, does something to the mess of _things_ inside of him that threatens to attack his eyes next. He blinks a couple times but it does nothing to fix the sudden blurriness.

“Please, Isabelle,” he begs her, but it isn’t a whisper, it’s a sharp request.

He can’t have her here, can’t have her stay while he’s in this mess. Even if she’s his sister, even if _she knows_ , Alec can’t let her stay and witness this pathetic version of him, overpowered and lost and out of control because of– of these _feelings_ of all things. He can’t let her be here, because if she does, if she sees this, it makes it real, makes it something he can’t deny and pretend to himself never happened; he’ll see it in the way she’ll look at him with pity in her eyes, every time Jace looks Clary’s way. He can’t have that.

There must be something in his voice or in the tense line of his body that tells her that the best option really is to go, so she does. The moment the door closes again, Alec feels a little of that tension going away in a heavy exhale. His hands curl around the bed sheets again and this time that lump on his throat feels like it’s growing, and he can’t really see properly anymore with the tears that are accumulating in his eyes.

He gets angry. He gets angry at Clary for showing up and turning everything upside down, he gets angry at Jace for being so oblivious to him and so obsessed with her, gets angry at him for the things he makes him feel and doesn’t reciprocate, angry for the way he’s been shoved to second place so fast now that _the little girl_ showed up, but mostly he gets _so fucking angry_ at himself for letting all this come to this point.

Furiously, he wipes the stubborn frustrated tears falling down his cheeks without his permission and with a tense jaw and shaking hands he looks up, looks all around like that is gonna keep his traitorous eyes from watering.

How _did_ it get to this point? What did he do wrong? He can’t say, he doesn’t know. Alec never fooled himself, he never allowed himself to even entertain the idea, day dream or something equally as stupid, about these stupid _fucking_ feelings he’s got no control over. He never even acknowledged it, never told anyone even after that thing at Magnus’ and the way he tried to pry it out of him. Telling people - hell, even _admitting it_ to himself out loud is a step too far that he won’t take.

So how?

How did he become this hurting mess just from seeing Jace kiss someone else? Why does it sting so very much every time he closes his eyes and sees it all over again?

It shouldn’t be like this, it’s not _fair._ He never acted on his feelings, he never spoke of them, he never allowed himself to think about them because feelings are a distraction and feelings cloud your judgement, make you slow and biased and inefficient and Alec always fought them off because of this very reason, he always denied them to be a better soldier, unfazed by something so... secondary.

And yet, all of it, it doesn’t matter - _it still hurts_.

With a broken sob that escapes him without his permission, he brings his hands to his head, clutching it like this way he could regain control of his mind again, control he doesn’t have, over his mind, over his heart… and he realizes: he never really had a chance at running away from this, had he?

That, right there, breaks something inside of him further; the idea that it was all inevitable, that he had no power over it no matter how hard he tried. It’s almost suffocating and he finds himself in some sort of limbo – in this numb state of not knowing if he wants to run away from his parabatai forever or run _to him_ right now and say it all, for once in his life say it all to Jace’s face and start _breathing_ again.

But this sort of confrontation – it was never Alec, was it?

So he runs.

He runs and he wants to keep running when Lydia Brandwell shows up. He wants to run when he finds out about his parents being former Circle members, he wants to run from the feeling of utter disbelief and outrage when everything starts feeling like a lie, when this rage takes over his weakened heart and he feels like his parents are the biggest hypocrites in the whole world for wanting Alec to be _perfect_ when they have this stain in their past. He feels angry when he thinks of all the things he repressed, all the feelings he denied thinking of how bad it would be, how he’d be deemed the disgrace of the family. And he can’t help how it stings, the fleeting thought that he never told Jace - for the sake of his family -, that there might have been a chance that slipped right through his fingers and now Jace is the one that ran off; to Clary.

That’s when Alec realizes that running is not something he can afford anymore. He needs to fix this. His family name, the Institute; the consequences of every badly thought out plan he’d let Jace and Clary go off on. He needs to fix it however way he can, because he can’t deal with the fact that all of that repressing of feelings, all of that holding back and not being himself for honor, for tradition, for family, was _in vain_.

He proposes to Lydia, and then everything starts going downhill.

 

Izzy is talking, she’s pacing the training room behind him but all Alec can focus on is the punching bag in front of him. “She calls Meliorn in and arrests him, then acts like it’s all out of her hands,” she is saying. But all Alec can focus on is the sting on his left arm, where the Forsaken got him and all the frustration he’s letting out on that punching bag.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Izzy warns, and like on cue, his arm gives out on him in a bad punch and he’s left wincing. Still he replies, “I’m fine, Izzy!” Then, walking around his sister he says “It was the Clave that gave the order, not Lydia.”

“Are you sure about that?” she fires back, and Alec closes his eyes still gripping his hurting arm, wincing in pain. It’s useless fighting with Izzy about this if she’s got her mind set.

That’s when _he_ comes around. “Hey,” Jace says. Strolling up the stairs, he takes a look at Alec, “You all right?” he asks.

Alec almost wants to laugh at that question. He’s never been further from being _all right._ But it’s not like he can tell Jace that, so he looks away from his parabatai, at anywhere else and tells him “I’m fine.”

If he senses something is wrong, he doesn’t let on. “I just spoke to Robert and Maryse.” He says, all business. _God_ how Alec envies that, suddenly. He used to be just like that, before all this fucking mess of thoughts and feelings took over him and he’s bitter at how he can’t escape it. “They’re being sent back to Idris.”

“What?” Izzy is frowning and she looks at Alec, indignation all over his face, “another _order_ from Lydia?”

Jace is looking at Izzy, since Alec can’t even bring himself to look at the two of them without feeling like he’s going to say something he regrets.

“Who’s Lydia?” Jace asks.

“She’s in charge of the Institute.” Izzy replies, a disapproving look on her face. And Jace looks at Alec like he put Lydia there _himself_. Alec takes a deep breath.

“She’s _what?”_

“Temporarily,” he tells Jace. He really doesn’t want to talk to him about Lydia, he doesn’t want to have to tell him anything. All he wants is to get away from him and from the unsettling feeling in his chest he gets looking at Jace and thinking about his plans with Lydia.

“And now she’s convinced the Clave that mom and dad aren’t doing their job?” Izzy brings him right out of it, looking almost outraged. It starts rubbing on Alec – she doesn’t really understand, she has _no_ idea.

“Well, maybe they aren’t,” he says before he can stop himself. Both Jace and Izzy stare back at him in silence. “The Institute was under their control when the Forsaken got in,” he adds.

Jace frowns, looks at Alec like he’s crazy “what are you talking about?”

He’s not crazy. He knows exactly what he’s talking about and maybe they should know it too. “Mom and dad were members of the Circle,” he says.

Izzy’s frown deepens, “ _what?”_  Alec looks at Jace and sees the way his eyebrows raise like he doesn’t even _comprehend_ the words that left Alec’s mouth.

“They don’t have Circle runes,” Izzy presses, and Alec has to explain to her the deal they made before the Uprising, how they got their pardon. But Izzy doesn’t look convinced.

Of course not, Izzy is like that, all fiery passion and unconditional love.

“Valentine is back,” he tells her. Jace crosses his arms, exhales like he doesn’t want to hear this, but Alec carries on, “the Circle is rising. They’re under suspicion.”

“No way,” Jace has got this look on his face, refuses to believe any of this. “Robert and Maryse took me in. They raised me as one of their own,” Alec is looking at him. He remembers that day so well, remembers the lost cautious look on Jace’s face meeting him and Izzy. Remembers the curious and intrigued - almost skeptical, really - way he saw his parents treating Alec and Izzy, like he wasn’t used to this – to _family_ and _love._ And mostly Alec remembers how he picked up on it and how, from then on, his heart decided, without his permission, to love Jace more, _differently,_ than he loved anyone else.

“I know what kind of people they are,” Jace is saying. The lump on his throat is back, and Alec doesn’t know any other way to make it go away than with harsh, bitter words to try and corrode it with the acid on his voice.

“Are you _sure?”_ he fires back, the pent up anger coursing through him, and he finds no other way to get rid of his frustration and _hurt_ than to channel it into his words. “They _lied_ to us. For years they’ve been telling us how to act, that we have to uphold the Lightwood name,” _that we have to put ourselves –_ who we are _\- aside and clean their mess._ Alec thinks it, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, “well, they’re the ones who tarnished it.” _Not me. Not my feelings,_ his mind whispers at him.

He wants to lash out; he feels so angry, “they’re hypocrites,” he finishes, sure that if he keeps talking, he might say something he doesn’t want to. His hands are shaking.

“You must be Jace Wayland,” Lydia walks in and from that moment, with a sunken heart skipping a beat in his chest, Alec knows he’s going to have to tell them. Jace doesn’t shake her hand, looks almost hostile and Alec is dreading the thought of opening his mouth about the engagement.

Lydia corners him into it when she asks “did you tell them?”

Izzy’s harsh “tell us _what?”_ makes him close his eyes and he takes a deep breath. She’s going to _loathe_ the idea. She’s going to be _so mad_. But Alec has to do this, no matter how much Izzy doesn’t want him to.

“Lydia and I are engaged.” The second the words leave his mouth, Isabelle’s eyes burn into his.

“We’re getting married,” Lydia adds, and Izzy’s eyes drift towards her instead. Her face drops and Alec feels uncomfortable in his own skin, itching to get away from this. He’s sure it’s clearly written all over his face.

Jace’s however – Alec can’t read him. His facial expression doesn’t change from the serious look with which he was examining Lydia just a second ago. It’s all hardened, like a shield keeping whatever thought, whatever emotion hidden. Then, his eyes bore into Alec’s and Alec almost wants to look away, hide from all this mess himself.

“You’re not serious.” He says. Jace’s voice is flat, calm and steady and Alec would rather have him screaming at his face than this steel act that doesn’t allow him to read anything into it. It’s so _frustrating._

“You were supposed to tell them ‘ _no’”,_ his sister speaks up, and he’s left speechless at the tears in her eyes, licks his lips and tries in vain to swallow the lump in his throat. For a moment, she looks like she might just scream at him, like she might fight for Alec’s _freedom_ with her own bare hands if she has to, but then her expression hardens as well. “It’s your life to ruin,” she states before she storms off down the stairs, away from the three of them.

Jace’s eyes are somewhere else but Alec can’t stop searching his face, can’t help but feel on his toes, anticipating some sort of blow from him. Jace crosses his arms, his lip twitches and he looks at Lydia first, “Not sure what to say,” he speaks, before his eyes come back to Alec.

“How about ‘ _none of this matters_ ’?” Alec suggests. Jace doesn’t say anything, mouth in a tight line but the way he’s looking at Alec - it makes that lump in Alec’s throat get bigger and bigger and he has to talk to keep it from blocking his airways – he feels like he’s going to suffocate under the weight of Jace’s gaze, “’ _we have to stop Valentine’_?”

“Finally,” Jace replies, fast, sharp, unforgiving. “Something we agree on,” and with a last charged look at Alec he turns and leaves him there without another word.

It’s borderline funny how he almost sounds jealous, baffled and irritated at this whole marriage thing, Alec thinks. Alec could pretend that was the case, that Jace wasn’t just mad because of the way Alec’s choices were making his life harder and going against everything he thought he _needed_ to do for Clary and to find Valentine. He could pretend it was in fact jealousy he saw in his eyes and the thin line his tense lips formed was of anger and _hurt._ He could, if he tried hard enough, pretend that Jace didn’t want him to marry someone else, because he wanted Alec to himself.

But Alec doesn’t daydream, and Jace doesn’t want him. He makes it clear, _so damn clear_ – every time he chooses Clary over Alec, time and time again. And it hurts, every _goddamned_ time it hurts how he keeps pushing Alec, his _parabatai_ , aside for this girl, who days ago was a stranger. How he breaks the rules and doesn’t follow orders from authorities that he always respected his whole life, all for this one girl.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

He promised to do the right thing this time, to bring Clary to the Institute and _do the right thing,_ follow the orders, trust the system. And Alec is holding on to that more than anything.

“Alec!” he hears her voice calling, just as he’s about to enter the City of Bones with the seelie and he grits his teeth, looks back at her for an instant, before his attention is being stolen by his presence and Alec feels his heart drop. He stops breathing for a second, stares her down to delay the moment he turns back around. When he does turn around, Alec does it holding his breath and there stands Jace in front of the entrance, cutting his path and choosing her _again._

He gets _so_ angry. “You told me you were taking Clary back to the institute,” he spits, restless on his feet as he grips Meliorn’s coat harder to keep himself in check, “you _lied_ to me!”

Jace’s face is stern, not a single flick of emotion crossing behind his eyes and he tells him “I did what needed to be done.” Cold. Mechanic.

(Like the soldier Alec preaches them all to be.)

Clary stomps into his field of view, between him and Jace, saying “Alec, the Clave has gone too far. You have to see that, please just let Meliorn go.” And the way she talks to him, like she knows of this better than Alec – Alec who was born into this, who was raised _for_ this – starts to rub him the wrong way and it only angers him more.

She has no idea, this _little girl,_ this selfish, _selfish_ little girl that doesn’t give a damn about their system, that breaks the runes, _the law,_ goes over it, brought them all into this mess - that’s standing between him and Jace. She has no fucking clue.

“I have my orders,” is what he tells her instead of all he wants to scream at her.

She scrunches her face, “you and your damn orders, who cares about orders?!”

“See?” Alec fires back, “That’s how little you know about being a Shadowhunter.” Her brow furrows, and he can’t control how his voice raises, “you couldn’t possibly understand wh-“

“It’s you that doesn’t understand, Alec,” comes Jace’s steady voice, interrupting Alec, stealing his attention once again, “Not this time,” he says.

It takes Alec a minute to react. He stares at Jace’s collected face in silence, processing what feels like yet another stab in the heart by him. Alec can’t help but squint his eyes, shaking his head a little in disbelief.

He doesn’t say a word; instead he pulls at the back of Meliorn’s collar, walks past Clary, eyes never leaving Jace’s.

“I’m really sorry,” Jace says.

Then, faster than his reflexes, Jace is on him and Alec’s back is hitting the ground. “Clary, Meliorn, go, now!” he shouts at the other two, and Alec grits his teeth, tries to fight him off of him, but Jace uses his advantage to immobilize his arms. Alec is breathing fast and most of it is due to the anger and outrage he feels right now.

“You always broke the rules,” he pants at Jace, “but _never_ the law, not until she showed up!” he spits, voice going rough with rage.

Jace grips his arm tighter, “you had it out for Clary from the start,” Jace says, furrowing his eyebrows, a matching angry expression on his face now that Alec can’t help but frown at, “and now you’re getting married, Alec? We both know what this is about!”

Alec almost wants to laugh, if the anger consuming his veins wasn’t keeping him from doing anything but attack, attack, attack. “Oh, do we? Okay,” his voice drips with sarcasm, and he pushes at Jace. “Why doesn’t the legend, Jace Wayland, tell us what’s it about?”

“It’s about me!”

Alec’s heart drops. A sense of panic creeps up his spine automatically at the notion that Jace might just know too much. Not _now._ Now it doesn’t make any sense for Jace to know – now Alec needs to be the perfect son, the perfect Lightwood, he has to _fix it_ for his whole family and he can’t be who he is for that. He can’t feel what he feels.

“It’s about your feelings!” Jace continues and Alec feels his airways closing, feels his skin crawl with the urgency of stopping him from saying it out loud, acknowledging it and making it _real_ “It’s because you’re-!”

He hits him. Hard. Alec hits him and pushes Jace off of him, rolling onto his feet and going at him again, all the frustration and anger and hurt oozing out of him in nervous, erratic, aggressive adrenaline that throws punch after punch at him, kicks and throws him around. He’s not holding back and if he wasn’t so _angry_ at him he’d be scared at how Jace is the only one of the two holding back. That’s also what allows Alec to get the best of him.

He’s got Jace on the floor, and a seraph blade to his neck.

Alec’s heart hammers in his chest and just like Jace, he can’t control his breathing.

“Do it.” Jace says, and there’s something raw in his eyes as he stares up at Alec. His legs keep moving and his hand catches his arm, pushing the blade further into him, “do it!” he shouts, all out of control, eyebrows pulled up in his forehead. Alec’s lips are in a tense tight line, his hand shaking – he doesn’t know which one of the two of them is the one holding the blade back anymore.

“I don’t wanna be alive if we’re on different sides, Alec,” Jace tells him and that look on his eyes – he means it. Alec believes him.

And it hits him, what he’s doing. He’s got a seraph blade to _Jace’s neck_. His hammering heart is screaming at him and he doesn’t know anything anymore – he doesn’t know what he wanted with all this, with fighting Jace, _he doesn’t know._ Fighting Jace – _why is he fighting his parabatai? -_ instead of being by his side, when, _where_ did things go so wrong Alec lost the notion of where his place is, when did he forget it’s by Jace’s side?

His fingers feel numb as he sits back down, hand shaking and still gripping the seraph blade he was just holding against his parabatai’s neck. Jace gets up and Alec can’t look at him.

“Come with me,” comes his voice, gentler but all out of breath. Alec is left just staring at the floor, Jace’s voice at his ears but his brain only half processing what he’s saying.

When did Alec lose himself? When did he first allow his feelings to overpower him like they just did?

“We’ll fight Valentine the right way,” Jace is telling him.  Alec finds himself thinking in a fleeting moment that, for the first time in a long time, he’s around Jace and his full attention isn’t on him. He feels numb. It’s odd.

So instead he finds solace in logic, because logic is safe right now, “If we do that,” he starts, stops a second without taking his eyes from the floor to take a couple of breaths, “we’ll be considered traitors like Mom and Dad.”

_Like Mom and Dad._ He’s repeating to himself, _like_ our _mother and_ our _father._ Jace is his brother, Jace is his parabatai first and before anything else, Jace is… _family._ When did he lose sight of that?

“I’m begging you, _my parabatai_ ,” Alec almost looks up at that, almost fixes his eyes on Jace’s but he keeps staring at the ground instead, “my _brother.”_

_My brother_ , it echoes inside Alec’s head and he _knows, he knows_ , doesn’t want to, but _he knows_ that’s what Jace sees when he looks at him, that’s what Jace wants from him and that used to be what he trained his mind to think of Jace as well, forget the heart, _forget my heart, when did I forget to keep it quiet?_

“ _Please,_ Alec,” Jace begs, “come with me!” Alec does look up then. He stares at Jace’s face and the beat his heart skips when he takes in Jace’s face is a bit of the answer he seeks in that moment.

The silence stretches for just a second, and Alec considers what Jace asks of him – has to keep his heart in check because it’s _screaming_ at Alec to get up, take Jace’s hand and go, follow him to the ends of the Earth, to Hell, to Purgatory, to wherever his parabatai wants and needs him to be and. And, Alec realizes, that’s his answer.

He lost himself _in Jace_ ; in his _feelings_ for Jace.

Alec’s a soldier – he needs to get himself back. So he answers, “No.”

The look on Jace’s face shatters whatever was left intact inside of him but he holds Jace’s gaze even if his chest is aching so bad he feels like the simple act of breathing is harder than any exercise of his training. Not a single word leaves Jace’s mouth and when he moves out of there, leaving Alec there alone, he closes his eyes, feeling like something there, the _something_ between them that used to be so sacred and precious is damaged.

For a moment he swears he can physically feel it in the rune on his hip, the one Jace has as well in the exact same place.

 

* * *

 

 

He keeps thinking about it too. His rune. _Their_ rune. He’s walking around the institute thinking of solutions, he needs _solutions_ for all of this mess and he’s rubbing at the mark on his hip unconsciously.

Alec needs solutions because suddenly everything is upside down and he doesn’t know where Jace is, he needs to get Izzy out of that high treason mess, he needs to find that _goddamned_ Mortal Cup, he just… he needs _solutions._

When the solution does present itself in the rune he’s been rubbing at, he could almost laugh at how stupidly poetic the whole thing is. If he did laugh it would be humorless and bitter and out of place with the turmoil of revolted helplessness he feels.

“Hodge, you ready?” he asks as he enters the room with Lydia hot on his heels. He’s already unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and trying not to think of the full consequences of what he’s about to do.

“Alec, don’t do this out of anger, Jace is still your _parabatai,”_ she tells him. Like he doesn’t know that. Like he doesn’t _feel_ Jace all the time with him, a steady strong presence since the day he got that rune. Like he doesn’t understand how this could work like ripping a limb off.

Hodge says, “Lydia’s right.” And _god,_ Alec _knows._ But he needs solutions and the only one he can find right now is getting the cup back and trade it for Izzy’s freedom.

“I’m not letting Jace sacrifice my sister for his _girlfriend’s_ pointless crusade.” He’s still working at taking his shirt off, “we’re doing this,” he declares, “and if don’t wanna help get out.”

“I’ll help,” Hodge agrees, but he points a finger at Alec and raising his eyebrows he says, “but on one condition.”

“ _What_?”

Lydia is looking at Hodge with a worried face, “You don’t let it go too far,” Hodge says.

“Now, your bond with Jace can withstand a certain amount of strain,” Alec’s brow furrows as Hodge talks and he keeps working on his shirt’s buttons, “But you have to promise me you won’t let it break.”

He feels like screaming at him – at them both. He feels like shouting in their faces with the sudden surge of anger that runs through his veins. How come _every single time_ it’s Alec who can’t lose control? What about everything Jace did? What about the promises _he_ broke? What about the strain _he_ put on their bond? All the lies he told Alec, all the times he turned his back on him ever since that _stupid girl_ arrived? The stealing behind Alec’s back of the cup that could _save_ Izzy if it were still here?

What about that? Where were they to make Jace promise not to _fuck_ _things up,_ and think of Alec and his family instead of giving in to some girl’s every whim? Where were they to make Jace promise not to let their parabatai bond break?

Nothing he does now can sever their bond any more than Jace already did over and over again, he thinks. Nothing can bring back what they had before and nothing can make it any worse than it already is right now.

The bond isn’t broken yet, but it might as well be, because what good is feeling Jace’s presence around him if he can’t reach out to him anymore?

The words that leave his mouth taste like acid on his tongue, “Jace is dead to me.”

 

* * *

 

 

There’s a reason why shadowhunters condone the repressing of strong feelings. There’s a reason why their best fighters are stoic and cool and unfazed. Feelings cloud the judgement, influence actions that should otherwise be taken after objective thoughts.

Feelings are bad in a fight. In a war. Be it positive or negative feelings.

Alec should’ve known better.

As he sits back at the foot of his bed after one hell of a night and looking at the promise of an even worse day tomorrow, he stares at his own feet after he takes off his shirt and bundles it up, throwing it away.

(He wouldn’t normally. He always folds his clothes neatly.)

He feels the rune at his hip burning still and he’s drained of all energy, feeling defeated. Izzy is still going to trial, Jace is nowhere to be found, his parents back in Idris, the cup unaccounted for and that _dumb girl_ still walking around making more damage; he can’t find it in him to worry about none of those things, right now, he’s got nothing left to give.

All he can focus on is the burning of his parabatai rune, stealing his attention, demanding to be felt like the symbol of all of Alec’s mistakes that it is. But the burn is doing just that – stealing his attention, and Alec welcomes the pain of it, allows it to be the only thing he can focus on for _just a little while_. It burns and it burns and the more it does, the less he can feel Jace’s presence – like Jace’s presence is exactly what’s being burnt away. He figures it makes sense.

He’s hyperaware of it, he’s focusing on how ghost-like it feels and he almost holds his breath like the very sound of it is too loud and makes it impossible to notice – that’s how fragile it is.

Sighing, Alec moves to take off his shoes and his jeans after, tossing them somewhere in the general direction he threw his shirt, standing up only to go find the worn out t-shirt and sweatpants he sleeps with. He’s suddenly tired, so tired he feels like every single movement aches and his body is feeling heavier each passing second he has to stay away from his bed.

When finally he lies down and closes his eyes, all he sees is Jace.

His jaw tenses and his lips are drawn into a thin line. He almost gives in to the sudden urge to just bang his stupid head against the walls until he knocks himself out, _stops thinking_ , and just sleeps. Alec needs to be sharp for tomorrow, he needs the rest.

But, he realizes, he also needs to know where his parabatai is. He needs to know he’s okay because for once in _years_ he can’t just _feel it_ anymore and it’s killing him with worry and frustration and guilt because, _fuck_ – this is all his own fault for not being able to control what he feels. He brought this on himself and he hates it, he tried so hard to avoid just this – destroying his and Jace’s relationship - and it was all in vain.

Everything was in vain and it makes him feel like he’s suffocating inside his own skin.

There’s a soft sound thudding outside of his room’s window.

Alec’s eyes adjust easily to the darkness the second he opens them and the muscles of his neck and shoulders tense. It’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for the seraph blade near his nightstand and jumps out of the bed, ready to face whoever’s trying to break into his room.

He stares at the window. The light isn’t great, but he doesn’t need it to be – it’s a silhouette he’s all too familiar with, and his heart skips a beat.

“Jace?” he whispers, frowning and lowering his blade just slightly as he starts taking careful steps towards the window to open it.

There’s something wrong with him.

When he does open the window Jace slumps slightly, winces at having to support his own head again properly when the glass that was there before is moved back and Alec’s hand comes to Jace’s shoulder, “Jace,” Alec calls, eyebrows pulled in a worried look as Jace groans in pain at the contact.

He’s hurt and the second Alec notices it everything else vanishes from his head. He pulls Jace towards him inside the room and does his best to swallow down the lump of panic that keeps rising in his throat and silence his frantic brain that keeps screaming at him how Jace is _hurt, he’s hurt oh, god, what happened?_

“What happened?” Alec can’t keep himself from asking as he brings Jace as carefully as he can towards the bed to sit him down and properly look at him. Jace sits and is still wincing in pain as his back rests against the pillow and Alec’s eyes keep searching his face. His hair is all disheveled and falling onto his face, there’s sweat breaking on his forehead and his eyes are hazy. Alec’s hand comes to Jace’s forehead, pushing his hair away from his face to check his temperature. He’s got a slight fever.

“It’s okay,” Jace says, closing his eyes, taking Alec’s hand from his face slowly.

“Jace, for the love of God what-“ Alec starts, but interrupts himself when he sees his neck – the dark stung place of his neck and the lines of Ravener demon spreading out.

His heart jumps in his chest and his lungs seem to get smaller suddenly with how hard it is to force himself to stay _focused_ , _stay focused, you can only help if you’re focused!_

“When did – what- I don’t- _Jace,”_ it’s like his tongue is a tied mess. Jace is still trying to hold his breath from the climb and – Alec realizes, he climbed up to Alec’s window _like_ _that._ Alec closes his eyes and fights back the images that invade his mind’s eye; of Jace falling down and getting himself fucking _killed_ , of how he was stung, this fight with a Ravener demon that went wrong and could’ve gone so much worse. _God._

“I’m _okay,”_ Jace tells him, eyes still closed. When he opens them, he stares right at Alec and pulls his sleeve up, showing him the puncture where a needle was injected into his veins for a blood transfusion, “I’m healing,” and then he lifts his shirt slightly, to reveal his iratze rune, _glowing_ almost imperceptibly.

It calms Alec down. He sighs a little more relieved and brings a hand up to rub at his eyes. It takes a moment for his heart to slow down to a normal rate and he finds himself thinking of how tired he was not ten minutes ago, how he’s more alert than ever now. He thinks of everything that is going to happen tomorrow and how he should be worried with getting some sleep but.

Jace is here.

He sits down on the bed, facing the ajar window through which Jace came in and in the back of his mind he’s thinking a million things at the same time, _where was he, what happened, who helped him, why was he fighting alone, why did he came here?_

Jace is here. He was going to force his heart to harden, to stop feeling what he felt, _but Jace is here_ and that’s all that’s on his mind, suddenly.

Alec’s voice is soft when he breaks the silence, “What the hell are you doing here?”, and he doesn’t mean to sound so tired, or for his voice to come out as gentle – he still remembers the last time he talked to Jace all too well. He still feels how angry he is at him and wants Jace to know it too; to know he _fucked things up_ with Alec.

He hears the way Jace exhales, this breathy sort of attempt at a laugh that almost feels out of place and he says “I almost died.”

The words make something uncomfortable move inside Alec’s chest and he frowns, closes his eyes for a second with his jaw tensing, blocking every single thought that comes to his head with Jace’s words. Instead, he turns his head to look at Jace and swallowing, tries his best to make his voice sound firm and cool. “Not the first time you’ve been there.”

He wants to sound mad at Jace. He wants Jace to feel the distance he’s trying to put between them, even if his whole body is screaming at him to get _closer_ to Jace, to hear his heartbeat directly against his ear and close his eyes and make sure he’s here and he’s okay, _safe,_ and nothing bad really happened to him because Alec wasn’t there. He also feels guilty, he realizes; besides angry – so damned angry at his _stupid_ parabatai,- he feels guilty. Jace might have just _died_ because _Alec wasn’t there._

“No, _Alec,”_ Jace says, straightening up slowly, holding Alec’s gaze with furrowed brows, in a hurt, defeated look that shows Alec exactly how _done_ with fighting with Alec Jace is. How tired. It’s just for a second that it colors his face – the next second Jace’s eyebrows are rising in a tired little smile, in some attempt at humour that falls flat he says softly, slowly “I almost died mad at you,” and he exhales a little sad laugh that cramps up Alec’s chest in a way that _hurts._

It hurts because he _knows_ and he feels like he’s suffocating with the way he’s longing to touch Jace. And, _fuck,_ he wants to stay mad, he does, but he doesn’t find it in him. All he wants to do is end this stupid feuding, let him know it’s all alright, between them it’s all alright and Alec will never ever let it go this far ever again even if it means fight back all the jealousy and want and hurt and overwhelming _love_ he feels for his parabatai he will do anything he will-

He turns his body to properly face Jace and his hand reaches out, “ _Jace_ ,” he breathes softly and there’s not a second of hesitation as Jace moves towards Alec – he knows his intentions like they’re his own. Eyes all shiny and open he outstretches his arms ready to wrap around Alec’s shoulders as his chest collides with Jace’s in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Jace whispers with closed eyes, lips moving against Alec’s skin as he scrunches his face up and hides it on Alec’s shoulder. Alec doesn’t want to let go of him even after all the long seconds the hug lasts, but he does, ignores the impulse to just keep holding Jace and with a last tiny reassuring squeeze he slowly pulls off of him. He needs to know what happened, where he was.

“What happened?” Alec asks, as soon as he sits back on the bed properly, this time facing Jace with a foot on the floor on the side of the bed, and his other leg bent in front of him lying on the mattress.

Jace sighs deeply and turns his head to the side, looking at the wall. Alec knows him well enough to know Jace doesn’t want to talk about it based on that action alone. But he also knows him well enough to know that talking about it is exactly what Jace needs. “Tell me, you know you can trust me,” he says in a whisper. Like he’s not sure he’s supposed to say these things or not.

There’s only silence. And then, “we were trying to find Valentine,” Jace starts after a moment of hesitation. Alec can see his train of thought all across his face; that he didn’t really want to talk about it but figured he owed Alec as much after everything and forces himself to. Jace’s eyes drop to his hands instead of facing Alec and the older boy frowns. There’s something clearly bothering him that makes him take a shaky breath.

“Jace, what is it?” he insists when Jace takes too long to continue.

The blond boy is biting the inside of his cheek and he looks as conflicted as he looks like he’s about to _burst_ with something that he’s holding back.

Alec’s frown deepens and he starts getting worried all over again, like Jace is about to shut him out again, to jump off the bed and run away, _anything,_ to keep from saying what he was about to say to Alec in a rare moment of openness that Jace rarely ever had anymore. He is assaulted by a distant memory of a quiet and distrusting blond little kid walking through the corridors of his home, curious blue and golden eyes watching his family and their interactions like he’s not sure it’s a real thing – like he’s not sure he can believe it’s genuine.

It’s a memory that stings, especially with how much like that quiet conflicted little boy Jace is acting now, instead of the young man who was taught family love by the Lightwoods and wears confidence as his armor that he’s become. And that’s the exact reason Alec begs him to “talk to me, _please.”_

Still fidgeting, Jace swallows and takes another moment – too long, makes Alec think that he isn’t getting anything from his parabatai. But his eyes rise to Alec’s and he must see something there, because he opens his mouth, licks his dry lips before he speaks and “we found my dad,” he blurts out.

Alec doesn’t understand at first, but those words work like a gate being burst open, and Jace is talking again, “he’s- he’s alive, Alec-“ his eyes rise then and there’s a whole sea of emotions swimming inside as he looks Alec in the eye. It takes him a moment to process what Jace is saying. His _dad_. Alive. Jace was with him-

“We were trying to find Valentine,” Jace repeats in a hushed tone and he’s trying to choose his words, “instead we found my dad, he’s- Valentine made him a prisoner all these years, and I was hurt, and,” he’s speaking faster suddenly, his voice rising just slightly in an ascending panic and his eyes watering searching Alec’s face, searching for some sort of sign that Alec _understands_ even through the frantic nonsense that is his head and the way his words are coming out, too urgent, too fast, too _affected._

“They took me to Luke Garroway’s and helped me heal but I couldn’t- my dad was there and I couldn’t stay- _Alec_ , I ran here, I- couldn’t stay there with- not with him-“

He never looked more like the quiet little kid he was when Alec first met him.

“Jace,” Alec calls, and reaches out again, grips his arm to ground him and he feels his throat close up at the helplessness he feels. Another memory comes rushing to Alec of the first time Jace opened up to him, when he first spoke of his dad in an odd, mechanic, cold and detached tone of voice that made Alec feel funny inside, like there was something very wrong with it even though he had no idea why.

That tone of voice, is the very opposite of how Jace is talking to him right now. Back then he was a little boy who didn’t know any better – today he knows exactly how wrong his dad treated him.

“I couldn’t be around him- my head was all over the place, I-“ he’s saying, hurt and anger and confusion all mixed up in his voice and Alec shushes him, “hey, hey,” grabs his wrist to pull him towards himself again, stretches his bent knee to get it out of the way and Jace offers no resistance, lets his head fall on Alec’s shoulder again and keeps trying to control his breathing, “I get it, it’s alright,” Alec is telling him.

Suddenly, there’s a sense of urgency crawling beneath Jace’s skin and he calls “Alec,” gripping his bicep and lifting his head to look at the taller boy in front of him, “ _Alec,”_ Jace repeats, “did I ever- Alec, he fucked me up so bad, did I ever- did I ever made _you_ feel like he made me feel?” the blond boy asks, searching all over Alec’s face.

He knows he pushes Alec’s buttons a lot, he knows they keep bickering and that he’s stubborn and pushy sometimes, he knows he tests Alec’s patience every now and then by going too far, _he knows_ all that but. He never, _ever_ wants Alec to feel the way his dad has made him feel; the idea that he _might_ do just that without even realizing he’s doing it, because of how _fucked up_ his dad made him is- it feels like water in his lungs.

“ _What?”_ Alec asks, his brow all furrowed in a confused and slightly outraged look, almost like Jace is insulting him. “What are you even saying, Jace, _no._ You’re not like him, what the hell?”

There’s a new raw energy pulsing through Jace; he’s not sure if it’s because of the kick the blood transfusion gave his iratze or just nerves from the most recent events finally getting to him. Whatever it is, he feels a little restless in his skin even if he’s not one hundred percent recovered yet.

“ _I don’t know_ , Alec,” he says his hand falling from Alec’s arm, but not making any move to get out of Alec’s personal space that he never left after they broke their second hug. His parabatai rune still burns a little and it feels so weak there’s an unconscious need he feels to be closer to Alec – like the physical closeness could somehow make up for the fragility of their bond.

A fragility that, Jace knows, _somehow_ , Alec caused. It only unsettles him more. It only makes him think that this time Jace did something that was too much, going too far and Alec finally got tired of dealing with his fucking _broken_ mess of a parabatai. It’s not like Jace can blame him if he did.

“You wanted to break our bond,” Jace says, like that’s how he reached the conclusion he did just now. It’s not an accusation, the way he says it. He’s just saying it, laying out a fact with no inflation in his voice. It still makes Alec flinch.

“I didn’t-,” Alec says. And he looks down to avoid his eyes and seems to notice the closeness – Jace is almost on his lap, with the way Alec’s got one leg on the floor, and the other parted and outstretched on the mattress, making the space for Jace to sit right in front of him. Jace is sitting back on his legs, but both his knees are pressed against Alec’s thighs.

He didn’t _want_ to break it. Not really. Alec was just stupidly - _blindly_ angry enough that, at the time, if it did, he convinced himself he wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t care.

“I didn’t do it to break it,” Alec says, and, consciously or not, his eyes go to Jace’s hip where he knows his parabatai rune is. _God_ , he didn’t want it to break, he wouldn’t know how to deal with not having Jace – _not even like that_ – after everything they’ve been through.

“I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to,” Jace says, and once again, his voice is neutral, understanding even and Alec makes a face, his frown deepening.

“Yeah, but I don’t _want_ to!” Alec insists with him getting angrier at the passiveness with which Jace is dealing with this. How the hell could he even think something like this? And how the hell could he be so okay like he says he would be if Alec did it?

Jace shakes his head, that nervous energy making the blood in his veins heat up, “I wouldn’t know that, Alec, would I?” he says, raising his voice and his eyes to fix on Alec’s. “You just never- you never tell me what you feel, you just tell me what you _should_ or _should not_ be feeling _,_ so it’s not like I’d know, is it?”

Alec shuts up.

He knows he’s not the most vocal person, but how could he be if all his life he was taught to be neutral, stoic, objective?

(How could he tell Jace how he felt, if all his life they taught him liking other boys was wrong, unnatural, unacceptable, if all his life they told him feelings for one’s parabatai were _prohibited_?)

Jace moves a little, hand on the mattress in the small space that’s left between them and he leans slightly forward, inclining his head as he searches for Alec’s lowered eyes.

“Do _you_ even know?” Jace asks gently, quietly. Alec refuses to lift his gaze to meet Jace’s – he’s sure something inside him will crack and he’ll come undone under the intensity of Jace’s eyes. His jaw tenses and his heart skips a beat at the turn of the conversation. “Do you admit it to yourself? What you feel?” Jace presses, and this time, Alec lifts his head, but his eyes travel up and look all around, at anywhere but Jace, his back straightening in a reflexive move to put some distance between himself and his parabatai.

His breathing is getting all worked up, “Jace,” he says in a warning tone, wanting Jace to _stop talking about it,_ just. Stop talking about it. “Just drop it, it doesn’t matter.”

But Jace is stubborn and Alec should already know that well enough to know he wasn’t stopping, “I mean it,” Jace presses, hand coming up to grip Alec’s shirt where it hugs Alec’s chest – like he’s afraid if he doesn’t steady Alec, he’ll run off before Jace gets the chance to talk about this. “And you can’t fight your way out of this, this time- _Alec,”_ he calls.

Alec doesn’t know if he can. All he knows is that it’s getting harder to breathe, and the hand Jace has on his chest feels a bit like a too heavy anchor, pulling him down into an overwhelming sea of things Alec doesn’t want to face. Because what will it even mean at this point? And does Jace even _know_ what he’s asking of Alec? Does he even know just _how deeply_ all this runs? He can’t know. Otherwise he wouldn’t press Alec for it. _God_ , he has no idea-

“Alec, look at me,” Jace is suddenly up, leaning his weight on his knees instead of sitting back on his legs and his other hand is on Alec’s shoulder. There’s a slight panic in Alec’s face and Jace has no idea how to reassure him that _talking_ is okay. He’s slowly learning that himself. That words won’t break anything. They’re stronger than that.

(Aren’t they?)

“You’ve got to face what you feel, you’ve got to deal with it, you’ve got to process it, you can’t keep it inside, it’ll – it’ll destroy you.” He talks like he knows, like he’s been through it. “You guys taught me that,” he says.

Alec closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. His brain is going blank and he has no idea how to get out of this – Jace has no idea what the _hell_ he’s talking about. No matter how he thinks he does, Jace has no idea. Because what Jace went through is nothing like this.

Both Jace’s hands come up to Alec’s face and that’s when he opens his eyes – wide, looking directly at his parabatai’s. “You’ve got to face it,” Jace repeats and looks all over Alec’s face. There’s a hint of something heavy in his gaze, and for just a moment, Alec’s heart skips a beat and he thinks that maybe Jace _does_ know.

There’s _something_ pulling at Jace’s gut. “You can’t just fight me every time I try bringing it up, the fact that you do speaks volumes on how it’s _fucking you up_ inside _¸”_ Jace tells him and his eyebrows are knitted together in a determined look. “You’ve got to tell me,” his voice is soft but firm as he talks and Alec’s stomach drops at the same time as Jace’s eyes do, unconsciously falling down to Alec’s lips, like he’s waiting to see the words come out.

Like if he watches his lips move he can make it easier for Alec to just _talk_ for once, like if he concentrates enough he’ll know what Alec is going to tell him and he’ll be able to say it with him to unburden him a little. If he knew what Alec had to tell him, he’d say it before, show him it’s alright, words don’t break anything. If he knew what Alec had buried so deep in his chest that he treated like a big secret to be kept from the world, if he knew why he refused to tell Jace…

If he knew what it was he thought was so big that could damage them.

If he knew why he turned so defensive whenever Jace brought it up, why was he so short-tempered with people, why he didn’t like Clary especially, why did he _help her_ anyway when Jace asked, if he knew where all those bitter (jealous?) words about her and what Jace did to help her came from, if he knew what Alec-

If-

If he knew…

“You need to stop,“ Alec starts talking, confused and disturbed, removing Jace’s hands from his face, meaning to restore the distance between them.

Jace’s hands fall to his lap, his eyes don’t leave Alec’s face and all the nonsensical noise of confusion in his head stops. It’s like realizing an unnoticed paper cut – the sting seems to only be truly felt when you _see_ the cut. He breathes out. In the back of his brain there's a sudden realization that he doesn't allow himself to fully face. But deep down, he also feels like he always knew. About Alec's feelings.

(For him.)

There’s _something_ pulling at Jace’s gut.

“I don’t know what you want to hear from me but-“

Jace’s hands feel a little numb, but he can feel the rub of Alec’s short stubble against them when he places them on each side of his face. Just like Jace’s lips feel equally as numb, but he pushes forward, he takes a breath and he feels the pressure of Alec’s mouth against his, lax and caught off guard when he kisses him.

Alec forgets how to breathe. His eyes stay open wide in shock, his whole body tenses up and for a moment there’s serious doubt in his mind about whether or not he’s in a dream.

He can feel Jace’s fingers moving ever so slightly against his cheeks and he’s sure it all lasted barely a second, but he feels dizzy like his brain hasn’t been oxygenated in minutes. It’s that dizziness that makes him close his eyes and his lips melt to fit Jace’s. This can only be a dream.

It’s Jace who pulls back, a bit stunned like his actions took him a little by surprise as well, his lips are parted when he opens his eyes and his hands are still holding Alec’s face. The something pulling at his gut bleeds into something warm as he takes in Alec, eyes still closed and he’s standing almost too close to properly see him. He’s holding his breath, he notices as not three seconds pass and Alec’s eyes flutter open only a little, hazy, unfocused.

A million things run through Jace’s head in those barely 3 seconds; did he go too far just now? All he wanted was to make Alec face this, give it a push of some sorts but _did he go too far?_ Did he just damage them when they were starting on the road to heal? What kind of idea was this anyway? Why, of all things, did he kiss Alec?

(Why was there something incredibly warm spreading on his lower belly and urging him to do it again?)

If he plans to voice any sort of apology, Jace never gets a chance.

Alec’s eyes are barely open, but his eyebrows are furrowed together in a sort of desperate look and he groans, - or he whines, Jace isn’t sure – like he’s giving up, defeated and letting go of something before he moves on Jace suddenly, makes his back bend backwards a little with the force with which he smacks his lips against Jace’s, his hand on the back of the blond boy’s neck.

The warmth at Jace’s belly explodes into a bright red and impossibly hot feeling and he can’t help the way he gasps against Alec’s lips or the way his hand goes straight to Alec’s hair and he grips tightly while his other hand is around Alec’s shoulder steadying himself.

It’s nothing like kissing Clary.

Alec’s hands move on their own and there’s not a single thought crossing his mind and a million ones at the same time, as one hand grips Jace’s neck to keep him from moving back from this, and his other roams to his shoulder not sure where to stop, wanting only to _touch._

Alec doesn’t know what comes over himself, but his movements are desperate like he’s been starving for this his whole life. He barely gives himself time to breathe before he’s parting his lips and teasing Jace’s, compelling them to open, _give in_. When Jace’s mouth opens, his lips slot perfectly against Alec’s and that’s when the older boy breathes in – that’s when he sucks the air in between and seals his mouth against Jace’s so fiercely he’s sure the sparks of electricity he feels in his brain will end up setting fire to this whole room.

Instead he feels like his heart explodes in his chest in loud beatings and everything he feels for Jace overflows and spreads into his bloodstream making his whole body buzz, vibrate with a raw energy that draws him to Jace, to this kiss, like gravity.

Alec can barely breathe, moving in on Jace until he’s maneuvered his legs so he’s up on his knees, towering over him; until he’s got Jace’s back bending and Jace’s hands at his sides, gripping Alec’s shirt and pulling him close, his fingers trailing down and Alec’s feeling so aware of his touch he can hardly focus with every sensation. He keeps kissing Jace, and it’s anything but gracious; it’s fast and desperate and all over the place.

Jace’s fingers graze Alec’s hip and he feels his skin _burn_ when Jace’s fingers cover his parabatai rune.

It sends his brain off like a shockwave and an ice bucket has been dumped over his head and he’s suddenly pulling away from Jace like he was, in fact, burned.

His parabatai- _his parabatai_ – follows his lips for a split second, chasing Alec’s mouth with hooded eyes and red lips like he’s about to press for the kiss he wasn’t ready to end just yet and _fuck_ if that doesn’t make Alec’s insides twist.

“What is this?” Alec whispers, a slow panic creeping into his voice, his hands on Jace’s shoulders keeping him at arm’s length like he can’t trust the proximity he craved all his life. Alec’s eyes are wide and his breathing starts getting worked up as he looks down avoiding Jace’s eyes, “What is _this_ , what’s going on, what are we doing,” he whispers, voice starting to shake.

Jace doesn’t have an answer. At least not an answer he thinks Alec would want, because _he knows_ what the pull in his gut is. He knows what it means the fact that kissing Alec has got his blood rushing. Jace knows the meaning of the heat rushing down his body, he knows what the urge to pull Alec closer is, he _knows_ what his own body is telling him. But that’s not the answer Alec wants, he reckons. The one Alec wants is the one that explains _why_ Jace is feeling these things, and Jace doesn’t know either.

His hand reaches towards Alec, searching physical contact as he says “Alec,” in a soft voice that cracks, so he swallows, lets his knuckles graze Alec’s knee and he looks properly at Alec’s face while the other boy flinches away from his touch and refuses to look up at Jace.

There’s a panic in Alec’s eyes that tells him that what his parabatai needs to hear right now is not really a complex explanation. Jace says, “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

The laugh that leaves Alec’s mouth is weak and dry, without a hint of humour as he brings his hands to his face and he sits back on his legs. Of all the things Jace has done, of all the ways Jace has fucked with him, this is – by far – the cruelest of them all.

“Stop it, Jace, please,” he says breathless, closing his eyes and the hands by his head, closing them into fists by his temples like he’s trying to hold his mind together with his own two hands. There’s a pressure on his chest making every heartbeat hurt and an enormous want to _cry_ keeping his throat constricted. His lips still tingle and his belly still flutters as he replays the kiss over and over again and Alec has never been this close to _hating_ his parabatai. “This is not fair. You can’t do this, you couldn’t have done this.”

“ _I know_ ,” Jace tells him, reaches for one of his hands, feeling his heart on his throat with the way Alec is so distraught. “I know we can’t and I know it’s forbidden but… there’s no one here, Alec, please calm down,” Jace pleads him. All he wanted was to get a reaction out of Alec, he thinks. All he wanted was to kick start _something_ , get the other boy out of that cycle of running and denial.

Kissing him was stupid, and rushed, and clearly not well thought through, and… _good._  

Jace frowns, looking at Alec and holding his breath at how Alec doesn’t fight his hand off. Instead he finally looks at Jace, not moving and not saying anything for a second.

Jace knows it’s prohibited between him and Alec, but no one saw, no one had to know; he couldn’t understand why the dark haired boy was so upset.

“No one- no one knows I’m even here,” Jace presses, taking advantage of Alec’s sudden quietness. “You don’t have to freak out, we’ll be okay.”

Alec frowns, shakes his head a little in disbelief. “Jace I- _seriously?_ ” he asks, feeling that urge to cry rising up to his throat again, pressing behind his eyes and making him want to stop talking – if only what he had in his heart to spill wasn’t already overflowing. “You’re – _I can’t believe you,_ \- you’re fucking around with what I feel and you think I’m freaking out _just_ because of the possibility of people finding out? You think _that’s_ what’s bothering me?” Alec doesn’t mean to, but he gets so worked up with frustration that he can’t stop the tears already spilling. There’s a certain heat, a certain rage as he talks, even if he’s mindful to keep his voice from rising too much.

“After everything I had to keep inside, after everything I had to give up and everything I fought off, you just come in here and you tear down all my defenses like it’s _nothing_ and you _kiss me_ just for fucking fun and you fuck my head up- I can’t deal with this, Jace, you _can’t_ do this to me, not right now, not when I _fought_ \- not when… not now.” His anger deflates and once again one of his hands is going through his hair, while the other that he yanked out of Jace’s grip mid rant is rubbing his tears away.

Jace feels paralyzed. “It’s not just for fun.” He says simply. Alec looks at him with a questioning but tired look on his face as Jace also sits back on his legs.

“I don’t know what it is.” Jace continues, “but it _is_ something. I’m not fucking around with you, I would never. Not with this. Not like this.”

He would never. And it sort of hurts that Alec thinks he would. But then again, he can’t hold it against Alec when he thinks of everything in retrospective. Knowing this – Alec’s feelings - have been there for a while – he’s not sure how long – it shines a new light on things, makes him understand some of Alec’s actions a little better, and it makes him cringe on the inside thinking of how he must’ve made Alec feel in some of those situations as well.

Maybe he’s done enough. Maybe he doesn’t even have the right to be here right now. Maybe he should just go.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles not really looking at Alec, “I think I should go.”

Jace’s words are still echoing in Alec’s mind and he doesn’t know what to say. He’s still processing what that meant but Jace is already moving to get up and leave and Alec can’t have that. His brain is a mess, and the only thing he can do is attack.

“ _Where?”_ Alec asks with a tense jaw, sterner than he meant to. “Where are you going now?” he demands, and the way he says it it’s not like he’s expecting an answer to that question exactly, but more like he’s seen it coming – like he was just waiting for the inevitable moment Jace would just get tired of this conversation and go. And he _can’t,_ he can’t just drop that on Alec and want to go the next second.

There’s a small voice in the back of his head telling Alec he’s being inconsistent, that he can’t really push Jace away and then not wanting him to go.

(But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want him to go, but he can’t keep him either.)

It frustrates him so much this whole thing, and before he notices he’s got more tears escaping his eyes and he’s fighting back the urge to scream. Jace stopped moving, and he looks like he’s about to speak, but before Alec can control himself he opens his mouth, letting the heated urge crawling up his throat take advantage.

“All I want is my parabatai back,” Alec tells him, “All I want, is to not feel like I don’t know you anymore and like my soul is literally breaking in half because you’re off trying to get laid,” at that Jace sighs, closes his eyes and shakes his head like he’s ready to argue. He doesn’t, though.

Alec shifts a little on the bed, “Jace, _all I want_ is for things to be like they were before. I don’t want to cross any lines, I don’t want what I can’t have, I just want you, as my brother _, my parabatai_ , back.”

Jace’s eyes lock on Alec’s and there’s a few seconds of silence during which Alec is just staring at Jace’s tense mouth with a furrowed brow. And then, “you’re _lying.”_

It takes Alec by surprise. _What?_

They’re still sitting on Alec’s bed and Jace moves up to his knees, the position letting him gain a few inches of height on Alec. He moves fast when he reaches for Alec, both hands on either side of his face and approaches him with a fierce look that’s all Alec can see before Jace’s mouth is on his in a hard, close mouthed kiss.

“You’re fucking _lying_ and you know it,” Jace tells him, moving on his knees to get closer to a frozen Alec. “You want this,” he says, before he’s kissing Alec again, this time parting his lips and pressing at Alec’s, wanting a reaction even though he’s not exactly expecting one just now. “You want me like this, don’t lie to me. Don’t feed me some bullshit reason, don’t call me your fucking brother. You want me, and I want you. If you want me to stop because you don’t want to do this, _fine._ But don’t ask me to stop because someone else told us it’s forbidden and _we can’t.”_

Alec opens his mouth and closes it again. He’s at a loss for words and the loud mess of thoughts in his brain is only drowned out by the erratic beating of his heart in his chest.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing at all.

With a hand he pulls Jace by his shirt and he’s the one that kisses him this time, eliciting an automatic response from Jace, who’s hand comes up to grip Alec’s hair at his nape.

Alec doesn’t remember making the conscious decision to move, doesn’t remember when he gave permission to his hands to wander all over Jace but maybe that’s what happens when you finally have something you’ve been wanting for so long; your body takes over, knows what it wants better than you.

He’s never wanted anything for so long, so much and he can’t really find it in himself

to push Jace away, to stop this when Jace is _right here_ , lord knows how, wanting the same thing as Alec. Even if it’s just this once.

And just like that, his head is one mess all over again, filled with evasive thoughts of _what if this one time is all you get?_ With a small voice telling him that it’s going to be so much harder letting him go after he’s had him. That his heart will be _obliterated_ when whatever this is, this whim of Jace passes and Alec is left with the taste of his lips slowly turning to poison in his mouth and taking him little by little.

Then, there’s something else screaming at him what he already knows: he’ll take it; whatever Jace is willing to give, _he’ll take it_.

When they break apart for air, Alec’s hand is gripping Jace’s shirt still and he stares right into those blue and gold eyes, his breath catches for a second because, _god_ he wants him _so very much._

“I’m sorry,” Alec whispers and his voice breaks. The words are out of his mouth before Alec even knows he meant to say them. It’s a way to drown out the confusion on his mind. His eyes shift down and Jace’s go right after following his line of vision and setting on his hip, where Alec’s other hand moves his shirt up to let his fingers run over the rune there. “I really didn’t mean to break it,” he tells him in a rushed tone, shaking his head with furrowed brows in a worried look, “I’m sorry it weakened you.”

Jace’s hand covers Alec’s on his hip, “I’m sorry I ran away,” he says back and then he’s back to kissing Alec, back to bringing his hands to his neck and gently turning Alec’s face into the kiss.

Once again, Alec breaks the kiss, his brows are furrowed in an anguished look as he stares at Jace and says “just please don’t do it again.” And he’s saying more with his face than with his words.

Jace’s breath catches and he shakes his head, dazed eyes fixing on Alec’s lips as he whispers “ _I won’t_.” He pushes gently at Alec’s shoulder, uses his body to move on his parabatai and when Alec’s back is flat on the bed, Jace is back to kissing him, hand curling around the back of Alec’s neck, thumb angling his chin up and slowly he lets his body fall half on top of Alec’s, a leg in between his.

There’s a sudden rush of feelings cursing through Alec, the moment he feels the weight of Jace over him, and the heat pooling at his gut suddenly takes him by surprise, makes him gasp and kiss Jace back harder.

Alec would be lying if he said this has never crossed his imagination, be it in dreams or late at night when he was too tired to chase those thoughts away. And even in his most vivid and realistic dreams, it never was this intense, this fiery and explosive the feeling of just Jace’s body against his.

It drives him crazy, makes his body act without permission, demanding what it wants before Alec’s conscience even acknowledges it.

His hips are suddenly moving, pushing back against Jace’s that are not yet exactly over Alec’s. “ _Jace,”_ he calls, as his fist closes on the fabric of Jace’s shirt. He meant to say something else, he meant to elaborate and tell Jace what he wanted – it was too late for inhibitions to act up now – but somewhere along the way he lost the words. 

Jace moves his hips slightly, his hand coming up to take off his own shirt and then he’s back to touching Alec, this time with his bare skin and as he adjusts on top of his parabatai, his crotch brushes _just right_ against Alec’s leg and he almost _purrs_.

Alec gasps, taken off guard, his legs move without his authorization trying to accommodate Jace better and he’s whispering _oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,_ under his breath, until Jace kisses him silent, a hand moving down to stop on Alec’s slightly bent knee, pushing it so Alec’s legs fall further open and Jace can properly _feel_ Alec.

There’s not a single thing in Alec’s mind except the shape of Jace’s hardened cock pressed against his crotch, and the feeling of Jace’s lips kissing his mouth. Everything else is _fire,_ like Alec’s never felt before. His mouth is running off making all sorts of whining sounds, even through Jace’s kisses and he’s pretty sure he can’t handle these sensations, he _can’t handle this._

Alec’s legs fall further apart though, and when he rolls his hips Jace doesn’t think he even notices he’s doing it, but it makes Jace have to stop, it makes him curse under his breath, “ _shit”_ and it barely reaches Alec’s ears. When Jace looks up at Alec again, his eyes are all glossed up, his mouth red and bitten and his eyebrows knitted together up in his forehead in an expression filled with so much want, urgency and desperation that once again, Jace is rendered speechless. He stops just staring at Alec for a moment and he finds it impossible that he didn’t notice Alec’s feelings before – if _all that_ was always there how could Jace not notice? It didn’t seem possible. Jace sits back up on his legs, admiring Alec’s body in front of him.

He’s frozen for a second, but it’s enough to bring a flash of alarm to Alec’s face and he asks “did I do something wrong?”

Jace’s mouth opens a little, and maybe he meant to answer Alec, but then the realization of where the question comes from catches Jace off guard and his whole body is invaded by an unexpected wave of heat; Alec’s never done anything like this before.

Alec’s never been with anyone like this, and nobody’s ever been right in this place, between Alec’s legs, feeling every inch of his body and caressing his skin and kissing his lips. It ignites something in Jace’s chest – a sense of pride, of smugness almost, the fact that he’s the only one Alec’s ever allowed to touch his body like this.

Jace’s hands come up to slide under Alec’s shirt, bring his shirt up as his hands go, proving his point – that Alec allows him to touch him however he pleases; this trust - it’s intoxicating.

He moves fast as he grabs Alec’s legs on either side of him, pulls him by the back of his knees in a quick movement, his hips colliding with Alec’s as he lays back on top of the other boy, bending his legs so they wrap around his waist and Jace is once again lying on top of him – fully this time – and he kisses him.

Jace can’t help himself – he thrusts his cock into Alec’s, closing his eyes and seeing stars behind his closed lids with every single bit of friction it creates, grinds and grinds and grins until Alec’s breath is all worked up in Jace’s ear, cut with the strength of each thrust.

Alec’s hand is in Jace’s hair when he gasps his name, tells him “look at me,” and Jace does, not stopping his movements feeling it build up into something almost frenetic, wild. “I want to see your face,” Alec whispers at him, “I want to remember it forever.” Jace kisses him, but Alec breaks it again, looking with urgency at Jace like nothing is more important than looking into his eyes. _If I never get to see you like this ever again…_

“Please, I-“ Alec starts, only to be cut off by a moan.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jace grunts, burying his face into Alec’s shoulder, his mouth opening automatically and latching onto his skin, kissing and licking and biting. All that urgency makes his stomach twist, a sort of want that goes beyond the fire in his veins, that instead has him want to reassure Alec, take away all his doubts. Even if Jace shares some of them.

“Alec,” Jace calls, and for a moment it’s like Alec doesn’t hear, his moves grow a little more frantic, “ _Alec_ ” Jace mumbles against the skin on Alec’s neck, lips connecting with his skin and the touch of his hand on the opposite side of his neck warm and steady and grounding somehow soothing Alec.

He forgets to protest, to tell Jace that he can’t be walking around with bites on his shoulders with the shape of Jace’s lips. But then that very idea seems to send a wave of electricity through his body, the very idea that Alec will be walking around _marked_ by Jace, for everyone to see but only the two of them to know. Instead of pushing him away, the hand on Jace’s hair pulls him closer and Alec trembles in Jace’s arms.

It feels like too much and at the same time like not enough. It feels like his heart is hurting and his soul being elevated to a level of existence where pain doesn’t register anymore. It feels like his brain is a mess of every thought he’s ever had and silent and blank at the same time. It feels like all sorts of contradictory sensations.

When Alec comes, Jace’s hand is over his mouth trying to keep him quiet, whispering gently “ _it’s okay, you’re okay, shh, shhh, Alec you’re good, so good, it’s okay”_ and Alec feels like crying.

He’s not sure he doesn’t. He’s not even aware of when Jace reaches orgasm either and he mentally, weakly, curses himself over having missed that, makes a mental note that he’ll have to pay attention next time, and then his heart leaps tiredly in his chest – he has no idea if there will be a next time, but he can’t bring himself to even think of that.

All Alec can register is the white noise ringing in his ears, the weight of Jace on his body and Jace’s hand caressing his face as his forehead stays buried on Alec’s neck. He doesn’t want to talk, is afraid of breaking the spell that the silence brought, but he feels his chest inflame with the need of reassurance. He hates how constant it has become, this dark hole of insecurity towards his own parabatai.

“Jace?” he croaks, before he swallows. He shuts his eyes harder, almost regretting having spoken at all.

“Hmm?” his Jace hums against the skin of his neck. He hasn’t moved a single inch.

“You won’t-“ Alec starts, but then he stops. Considers what he’s about to ask, knows how pathetic it’s going to sound already. But what does his pride matter anymore? “Jace-, you won’t leave again… will you?” his voice sounds small and so unsure it’s almost pitiful, but right now Alec feels so vulnerable he can’t be bothered about that. The idea of Jace leaving right now feels as unbearable as ripping off one of his own limps.

Jace lifts his head to face Alec. His hands’ movement stills a little, he nods gently, Alec’s sure.

Maybe they did something to their bond just now. Because when Jace looks at Alec, Alec can see a little bit of that same vulnerability that he feels in Jace’s eyes. And it’s a bit like knowing how Jace will move in a fight, it’s a bit like predicting Jace’s actions or what he’ll say, what he’ll like or not; it’s a sixth sense, a _Jace_ - _sense_ that Alec always remembers having – he doesn’t need Jace to answer.

But his heart beats a little softer, he breathes a little easier when he hears him say “I promise.”

There’s a thousand problems he has to deal with tomorrow, but for the first time in a while there’s a sense of calm that comes from knowing at least Jace is here now, will be here tomorrow, and Alec doesn’t feel like he’s facing the world by himself. There’s a sense of calm in that, and his parabatai rune doesn’t burn anymore.

So, for this night, he can sleep a little better. For this night, at least, Alec can stop worrying.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr, here, come say hi ](https://whereshiphappens.tumblr.com)


End file.
